A Farewell to the Guilty
by EmilyEats
Summary: Edmund is damaged after joining the WWII, his heart is heavy and he doesn't believe that he will ever be happy again. And in the midst of the chaos, a woman from Narnia came to the Pevensie's door and asked for help, informing them that Winter came back. With many betrayals and love and hatred, Edmund set foot on a journey to not only save Narnia but the Just King himself.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

It was a common knowledge among the four Pevensie siblings that they had been to a strange country called Narnia when they were children, where animals talked and trees danced. As ridiculous as it sounded, they had been, indeed, kings and queens there for a long period of time, which the Narnians, the natives,referred as the Golden Age. This story was told in a book called The Witch, The Lion and The Wardrobe.

Indeed, it was another common knowledge among the Pevensie siblings that Edmund Pevensie had made a mistake during their first journey to the land of Narnia. Although the past did not matter now and the price was paid and the War was won, Edmund was forced to remember his foolish acts and his treacherous lies in these war days.

Their second journey in the enchanting land saved endless lives and stopped a tyranny from exterminating the people they loved. Friends were made. Magic came back. A war against their enemy, the Telmarines, was won and the siblings got another taste of how terrible, and dirty, a war could be. The story about how the old kings and queens helped an orphan prince to save the kingdom was told in another story called Prince Caspian.

When they returned from the magical land and the elder brother and sister, Peter and Susan, were told that they could no longer go back to Narnia, here in the our world, the Second World War had not yet come to an end.

The Pearl Harbor Incident happened. The Americans joined the war. Susan, who was in America with their mother, came back to London. Peter came home from working for Professor Kirke to take care of the family.

Aunt Alberta, who lived with young Eustace moved to Northern Ireland. The four siblings and their mother lived in a flat near the underground. Lucy quitted school without telling anyone but Edmund, who daily lied to the family about walking Lucy to school before going to work in an elderly house.

Lucy decided to volunteer in the underground, which was constantly crowded because of the bombing. She took care of the homeless who were sleeping in the train platforms. Edmund was confident that Lucy could keep herself safe.

Bombs fell from the grey sky and a second later, there would be bright light, a deafening sound and nothing left but bodies and stray stones. The city's Bombing Alarm Station helped to warn the residents by blaring the ring. Susan worked in that station for a period of time before working in the public hospital as nurse because "people there need me more".

Peter was working in a different hospital, where soldiers were sent back from battlefields. "I know things with wars and injuries. I know the words they need to hear to heal," Peter had said once. "I mean, battle wounds? I've got enough of them already."

"Why don't you join the war?" Edmund had asked him when they were cleaning the dishes. "You can lead a unit brilliantly. You can fight."

"I have had enough wars for a lifetime," Peter said, "wars are terrible affairs that you and I are both familiar with. Here in this world, we are not politicians nor the minster. We were kings and queens in the Narnia, where there was a proper reason for battling. We were doing battles that we surely could win. Here in this war, there is little I can do. If I am in charge, I will not let the war happen. I would try the peace -"

"They have tried the appeasement policy," Edmund said. Peter paused a moment before replying.

"Maybe excuses aside, I just don't wish to kill or shoot anyone."

"They're invading our home, throwing bombs over heads everyday," Edmund argued. "They're killing us."

"They're just humans," Peter said. "Now I wish to comfort those to need words of hope. My fightings belong in Narnia. Here in this world, I fight with my words and leadership, not weapons and creating chaos."

Leadership, perhaps this was what gained Peter as the head of the Soldier Injuries Department in the hospital that he worked in. He always knew the right worlds to say. Being twenty one only, and he was wise beyond any university professors. Well, Peter hadn't always been twenty one.

Eventually the fact that Lucy worked in the underground was known by the family. One time, there was a bombing alarm and the family members, coming from hospitals and elderly house, fled to the underground. They found Lucy standing on the stone benches with a megaphone, giving out orders and arranging people's place in the crowded platform.

Mother insisted that Lucy should go back to school. It was the first time that Susan and Lucy argued with mother. Mother constantly glanced at Peter for support, knowing that the big loving brother wouldn't let his young 15 years old sister working in the underground.

"Say something Peter!" Mother said shrilly over dinner.

"I think you were brilliantly Lu," Peter said with a smile. Susan and Lucy beamed. "Look at just now! You had everything under control!"

"Thank you Peter," Lucy said. Mother then looked at Edmund, who was just staring at the piece of bread in front of him.

"Edmund, you say something to support me please," Mother said.

"Lucy can take care of herself," Edmund said quietly in a bored voice, "after all, she was the Valiant. You can't really stop a Valiant from doing the things she wants."

The siblings chuckled.

"Not those languages again," mother rolled her eyes. She hated it when her children talking about mysterious childhood tales. Although she noticed the harmony and changes of her children, she did not believe in any form of magic or adventure that took place in a shabby big house.

"I'll be fine mum," Lucy said. "I promise."

So Edmund went on working in the elderly house, which located in the edge of London where bombings never occurred. The government even assured the publicly that the Germans would never extend the bombing to that side of London because "the Germans will want to strike places with most population", said the radio.

Being 17 years old and having fought two wars in person, Edmund wanted nothing but to join the army. He knew, for sure, that his family would do anything in their power to stop him from entering the battlefield. But sitting here and doing nothing? It ached him. Sometimes when he looked at the elderly, sitting around and regretting, he'd imagine himself being older, the world being under the Nazi's rule and how he bitterly regretted all the wars he could have joined to make a difference.

That day when the bomb came, Edmund tucked some old ladies to bed. Their names were Elisa and Gwen. They heard sound and Edmund went out of the house to see what was going on. The bomb struck through the roofs of the house and it explored, blasting the building in front of him to pieces. Edmund was thrown back because of the force and he watched the house caught on fire and the flame built up and up, swallowing everything he'd known. The pink walls. The goofy smile of Gwen. The ever complaining Elisa. His boss's irritating shouts. The fans. The windows.

Edmund called for help with tears showering his face. He tried to get people's burnt, coal black bodies out of the fire. Silence all around. None of the them moved. None of them breath. Edmund's leg caught on fire and he didn't notice the pain and the hurt until someone told him.

"Son, stop! There's nothing you can do now," Edmund remembered some burly fire fighter grabbing his shoulder as he made his way into the ruined house again.

"No, let me go!" Edmund shouted and punched the fire fighter in the face. He ran back inside the house where the fire was put out. Edmund could still feel the heat. He could still see the outlines of beds and wheelchairs. He pocketed a folded, ashy paper.

Susan picked him up and brought him home. She gently hugged him and whispered things that "it'll be okay." Edmund was sure that nothing would be okay. Edmund stayed quiet for a few hours, making up his mind.

"Are you okay?" Susan asked him that night in his room, brought him a mug of hot chocolate.

"Will I ever be?" Edmund asked.

"Talk to me," Susan said, "I've learnt from a psychology class that trauma -"

"Like something you've learnt in a class or a text book is going to help me," Edmund said, turning away from her. "You didn't see it. It was loud and then there was nothing. I ran back in and – no, don't make me think about it."

"It's a survival guilt that you're going through now – well some people call it the luck guilt. You think -"

"Oh shut it," Edmund said, "I am sorry. Just don't, please. Those things from books, they are for hypothetical situations. My existence is a betrayal to dead. You don't get it. It's like going back to that time in the icy prison, watching the Witch turn everyone into a statue. You know how that feel? I could have done something. There's a war right here in my head."

"Let me tell you from personal experience then," Susan said, "Aslan died in front of my eyes. I saw the Witch stab the blade into His body. They tortured Him. Cut all His mane. Lucy and I witnessed His death and we could do nothing about it. We just saw it happen behind the rocks."

"He came back, didn't he? Those people won't," Edmund said.

"Did I know that He would come back?" Susan said, "What a night it has been, watching those dark creatures chanting over His death. We were at war and we lost the one we looked up the most. We lost a friend. You need to keep fighting, because -"

"Okay, Su," Edmund said, "okay. Thank you. I am so very grateful that you talked to me. It's so very, very helpful."

Edmund went into the living room and played a game of chess with Peter, who later went into Edmund's room and said the exact same thing Susan did. Edmund escaped into Lucy's room, who was sewing some clothes for a homeless boy she had met today.

"What's his name?" Edmund asked.

"Ivan," Lucy said, not looking at him.

"Susan and Peter kept trying to talk to me," Edmund replied, sitting on Susan's bed.

"It's better them than mum," Lucy said, "Peter told mum that he'd fix you up. Mum was about to get you to the doctors. Susan said you don't like doctor. It was terrifying isn't it?"

"Why aren't you comforting me, wise sister?" Edmund said.

"Because I know that you'll be okay. Eventually. You'll take some time. You're not crowned for nothing," Lucy said, "Aslan must have seen something in you. Something that's still there that makes you someone special. Tough. Just."

"You still believe that," Edmund said.

"That's what I will always believe," Lucy said, "However bad the war is becoming."

"Wars are not this ugly in Narnia," Edmund said.

"It is," Lucy said, "Peter knows. Aslan knows. The civilians know. We don't see the whole war, Ed. We see only the parts we play, which did not involve a lot of decision makings. We didn't witness a lot of death. People were always protecting us."

"Speak for yourself. When I was on the griffin and flying across Miraz's castle," Edmund said, "I did a lot of death bodies. But they died a heroic death. They chose to take part in the war. Those gentlemen and ladies in the house were innocent."

"If you put it this way, yes," Lucy said, "but death is, I don't know, I am not sure how to say anything about it. It's a mystery. Only Aslan knows where you go after that, because He died and came back and no one did."

"So you just want to sit back?" Edmund asked.

"I am doing what I am always good at," Lucy said, "taking care of people. And being – trying to be valiant."

"You are," Edmund said.

"I am actually really scared whenever I hear the bombing alarm," Lucy said, "when I am walking home, I can't bear to imagine if anyone doesn't come home."

Edmund nodded, "I guess everyone feels that."

"Susan said you've never cried since you got home," Lucy said. She was sewing the sleeve of the shirt.

Edmund shrugged, "I'd rather not think about it. It's quite heavy. Here," Edmund pointed at his chest.

"And you think joining the army will ease that?" Lucy said in a gentle voice. She looked up from the needle in the dark room.

"I'm not giving it the slightest thought."

"Edmund."

"Okay," Edmund replied uncomfortably.

"Saw you packing your bag before dinner," Lucy said. "And this," Lucy took out the paper Edmund pocketed in the elderly's house, "so you're going to go with the name Kevin Wallet now?"

"It will keep me sane," Edmund said, "You don't need to do the explaining. I am leaving a letter under my pillow. There's an urgent call, I've heard it this morning. They're leaving tonight."

"You will survive, whatever happens," Lucy said firmly, "I know you will."

"It's just another war replaced with guns and tanks," Edmund smiled bitterly, "I sure am more experienced than my other mates in the army." Edmund took the paper from Lucy's hand, folded it. "Let's hope they have swords there. I am Narnia's best swordsman."

"You're not killing anyone out there," Lucy said, "No, you're not. When you fought, you only injured those people badly. You never strike to kill."

"I can't control what will happen. This world is savage."

"This world. Narnia. It's the same world with different names and timeline. It's not what you think it is. The killings. Listen to me very carefully, Edmund," Lucy put down her needle, "killing damages your soul. I've seen those return soldiers in the underground. Their eyes are soulless, you kill someone and they take part of you away."

"You watch people die in front of you and part of you die with them as well," Edmund said, "I've killed once. Remember in Aslan's How and the Witch in the ice?"

"No, that's different. The Witch never dies. It doesn't count. You are not a savage." Lucy said. "Be very safe and write any time you can."

"You're just going to let me go?"

"I think in the house, I know you better than anyone, and I am trusting your judgement the way you always trust mine. And well you can't stop the Just." Lucy said, smiling lightly, "Not when he can beat Peter in sword fighting and beat Susan in archery, and can fix dislocated arms faster than anyone else. If you think you can find your peace by joining the war, what kind of sister I am to stop you? I am not mum. You will come back to us alive, I mean, you've officially fought two wars! Aslan will look after you. Before you go though, come to my room. I've got you food, hidden in my drawer. In case you're hungry on the road."

Edmund nodded. He hugged her sister for about a minute before letting go.  
"Don't end up like dad," Lucy whispered.

"I won't," Edmund said, "take care of mum and make sure Susan and Peter get along."

Edmund left his sister's room. He thought he heard her sob when he closed the door. Edmund couldn't explain how grateful that he had a sister who understood him the way Lucy did. When everyone was deeply asleep, Edmund kissed his mother's forehead, put his letter over Peter's chest in case no one found it under his pillow, put pretty, newly bought hairband on Susan's table and went downstairs .

"Told you to come to get some food from me."

Edmund turned around in the dark living room, found Lucy in her nightgown.

"Thought you were sleeping," Edmund whispered. Lucy handed him some bread and cheese and kissed his cheeks.

"I'll be okay, go back to bed," Edmund said. Edmund opened the door, Lucy stood there watching him.

"I am sorry for ever being a git to you," Edmund said. "Here," Edmund took out an electric torch from his bag, "this is for you. May the torch always guide you in your darkest hour. Keep it. I'll have a new one in the army."

Lucy took the torch.

"I'll see you soon, Ed."

"Real soon. Goodnight Lu," Edmund said, "I hope you'd dream of us and Aslan and dream of Narnia."

Edmund kept walking in the ghostly night, turned the corner and walked down the wooden stairs. He hadn't heard Lucy closing the door until he reached the bottom of the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Being in the military hurt. It hurt because everyday Edmund would wake up to bad news and never good news. And the day would be long and dragging with the bad news clouding in everyone's mind. And the next day was the same. And the next day.

It hurt because Edmund'd wake up next to many lonely strangers. Strangers who yelled at night when nightmares came. Nightmares came in all forms in military. Losing love ones. Being torture. Being blasted into a jelly of blood and flesh. The war was unpleasantly long. In the first few months, people still received letters from home. Then it stopped because "the general said the Germans blocks the post traffic back home." Everyone in the army lost the fire they had when they joined. They were, Edmund thought, living dead. Living machines.

And there were rules, many of them that Edmund found ridiculous. Army didn't need discipline in Narnia. Because Narnians weren't savage and they would turn up on time. Because Narnians wouldn't start fight against each other. Because Narnians would always hold on but not give up half way. Because Narnians fought for freedom and soldiers here fought for the ticket to go back to their own beds.

Edmund had been sure that he could find peace by taking part in the war. To seek revenge on people who destroyed his home. To give justice to Gwen and Elisa and those who died – to give justice to his father who died in evacuating the continent at Dunkirk. To act noble and selfless like Peter. To sacrifice himself for the others like Aslan. To fulfill his instinct to protect.

Now the idea was utterly idiotic. Trying to find peace within chaos because there was chaos in your head? Trying to expel demons inside by acting like one? Edmund did not find the peace he wanted. He found suffering and living nightmares. The only peace that he gained when a day was done was the hour when he was too physically tired and his brain stopped producing images of his teammates dying – the hour that he was exhausted enough to sleep dreamlessly.

Dreams were horrible things. Sweet dreams made Edmund miss all the things he had and all the things he could have. He'd wake up aching as though the pain was an actual physical chest pain. Bad dreams involved dying and losing, which was a pain that Edmund was quite used to now. He couldn't decide which dream served better pain.

Painless dreams were dreams that he found himself sleeping leaning against the warm body of a lion, who Edmund knew by name. Even though he'd wake up again the wet muddy bed again with ten guys in the same room snoring, he wouldn't be scared.

Edmund lost the sense of places and dates, he knew events and time slots. Edmund had only received Lucy's letter once, that everyone was terrified for him. Lucy said Peter had talked to her the very next day, that Peter had always known Edmund wanted to leave and join the army. Was it that obvious? Well, his brother grew up fighting by his side, of course he'd know.

Edmund was the best soldier in his unit. He was also the quietest in the group. His captain made him the team leader pretty soon. When the boys, about his age, all eager to go to whorehouses, Edmund stayed to polish the gun, or the desk, or clean the bed sheets, or the pillows.

"You need to aim to kill, Mr Wallet!" The most frequent thing his captain said to him.

"I just have to hurt him enough to stop him from attacking others," Edmund said. Edmund avoided killing, and he had been successful so far.

"That's not enough," Captain said.

"It's enough as long as I get all my mates out safe and sound," Edmund said. His mates adored his leadership and admired his skill and quickness in decision making.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks to months. Places names blurred into sights of trees and more trees and wetter weather went from mild to wet to cold and snow. Edmund didn't bother to write back home anymore. Nothing was fascinating here, and Edmund didn't have more spare will to write happy letters. March passed, then April and May.

And eventually there came a starry evening when the Captain announced the cross countries operation of the Normandy Landings. The D-Day. Western countries gathered force and they came up with a deception plan.

"There will be victory. Your service ends after the D-day. You'll be going home." the military radio said. Edmund's teammates were energetically talking about this.

"I'm marrying my girl after this," a bloke in his team said. Edmund's boys drank to that. Edmund wearily raised his flask.

For a second, he was sure that he'd be alone for the rest of his life. Because no one had seen things the way he did. No one would understand it. This time, not even Lucy. He immensely regretted not ever getting married during the Golden Age. Edmund wondered if that Ivan boy ever asked his sister out on dates. He wondered if Peter would approve, if Susan would be delighted. He wondered how his mother would react if all her children got married and came home with many grandchildren for Christmas. What a Christmas feast it would be. And Edmund wondered if he ever had children, would Aslan let them go to Narnia? He wondered if Narnia was in peace.

"My wife told me that my son drew pictures of me," a thin looking guy said, "and he drew you, Kevin. He's never seen you before of course, but I wrote about you. You must come and see my family after this."

Edmund smiled and nodded, toasting to his son.

"Tell us about you, Kevin! Stop being the mysterious guy! We're probably all going home after the D-day – won't see you again!"

"Come on Kevin! A story. A joke!"

"Got anyone special back home?"

Sometimes Edmund wished he could reveal that he was only 17, not the 25 years old Kevin Wallet that he pretended to be. Edmund made up a story about a girl living in his neighborhood and how she had beautiful hair and nice eyes. Everyone passed out within two hours with more toasting to other's families. They had a day off tomorrow.

Edmund went into the bathroom with his flask of vodka. He looked at the mirror. He barely recognised himself.

"To Narnia," Edmund toasted to the shabby Just King in the reflection, who looked at him tiredly. This soldier had longer messy black hair and his dark brown eyes were darker though it had nothing to do with the color nor the dim light in the bathroom. His cheeks were red. He was unshaved. He looked like 25. Edmund turned off the bathroom light and reread the D-day instructions on his bed.

The day before the 6th of June 1944, Edmund talked to his teammates again about the arrangement of the next day. He checked the Normandy map again and confirmed the time that the ships would pick up the team. Edmund made sure everyone went to bed early.

"We can all go home," someone said in the dark.

"And get married," someone replied.

"And my daughter and mum."

"Shut up and sleep or I'll dig you out to do the physicals," Edmund said roughly.

Home. He'd left for eight months, that seemed like decades. How was home like? How was his family like? Home didn't sound like home. It was a flat. Edmund would give anything he had now to go back to Narnia. He wasn't scared of tomorrow. But what came after tomorrow? How was his demons doing now? What to escape after that? Did it mean he would have to think about the elderly house and all the good men he'd lost here in this bloody war?

Edmund imagined Aslan coming in to the tent, roaring and asking him to climb on his back. He pictured Aslan rescuing him and brought him to His Country, one that sounded so distanced and hopeful. Did he deserve to be there though?

How would Lucy think when she saw him? Would he be unwanted? What about mum and Peter and Susan?

Well, Susan wouldn't like the beard and having to see Edmund with hair this long, Peter would call him a girl. Mum would shout and scream. Lucy. Lucy would make him cakes or soup and give him the warmest hugs. She would probably give him back the torch and say something magnificent like "now here's your torch. Now it will guide you and give you light. And light is hope." Always a wise little git.

So life would go back to the way it had been. Small talks of Narnia. Boring work. School. War ended. Even applying for university. What if he couldn't make it?

Edmund got out of his bed and went to the bathroom when the guys started to snore. He took out a knife to cut his hair and small blade to shave the beard. He looked 17 years old again. And he sat on a log outside the tent, thinking about the night he went back to Narnia and finding Cair Paravel in ruin. What if he became the ruins after all these?

And for the first time he started to talk to Aslan. People passed by thought he was a lunatic or was someone who was too scared of the coming day. But Edmund poured his heart out and talked to Aslan. Whenever the warm breezes came when he talked, he knew Aslan was listening. And the breezes had never stopped coming.

Edmund talked about how tough all these were and that he was sorry. He said he didn't meant to be this way, and that he didn't mean to bring so much trouble to people around. He talked about missing home and Narnia, talked about everyone around him and how much invisible pain he was dealing with each day.

He talked like a little child telling a parent what happened in school. Edmund went on and on until the moon was high over head. He cried a bit when he acknowledged the grim, lone king that he always had been and how he didn't wish to trust again because of the Witch. He asked Aslan if he could ever have someone who he could trust and fall asleep next to. He asked if he would ever be truly happy. He asked if he could think about the elderly house without feeling pain.

When the breezes stopped, he knew Aslan was hurrying him to bed. So he went to bed and closed his eyes. He woke early the next day and woke his mates. Everyone was dressed up and had breakfast. Edmund ate very little. They were armed and loaded into boats, sailing towards the Normandy beach. Nobody really talked at the beginning.

Someone recited a poem by Emily Dickens. And they took turn reciting poems and lines. Some made lines up and some even spoke of some Shakespeare lines. Edmund gazed at the sky. It was grey and Edmund thought of the songs he had once known in Narnia. There were birds flying somewhere near the clouds and the tides were rough.

"Your turn Kevin," Edmund heard someone said.

"I," Edmund paused, looking at the machine gun in his hands, "there's one that I know.

Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,

At the sound of His roar, sorrows will be no more,

When He bares His teeth, winter meets its death,

And when He shakes His mane, we shall have spring again."

"That's," Edmund's mate said, "quite nice. Don't know what it's about, but very powerful."

"Makes you feel warm, doesn't it? Here!" The guy pointed his chest. Edmund smiled lightly. Edmund fell into silence again. All he needed now was to concentrate on one thought – get his men in, get them all out.

There was a loud ring from the other larger boats, and the units were sent out groups by groups. Edmund watched the men rushing to the beach as though it was the land of treasure, greeted by bullets and fell on the sand, staining the ground red. And there were more men sent. Planes were throwing bombs out. There was explosion louder and brighter than any firework. And there were fighting and yelling and men sinking into the sand. There were more men, running like ants avoiding raindrops. It went on and on and the sun shone its brightest through the misty grey clouds. There weren't silvery linings.

Hours later, Edmund heard men yelling in victory in all languages. The Frenchmen shouted from the other boat, "Wee wun! Wee wun!"

Edmund's team was yelling in excitement. In a distant, Edmund saw men loading away big machine. There were many bodies on the beach. Edmund heard his Captain's signal.

"Get ready to land!" Edmund shouted to his big boat of people, which included people from other unit. The boat landed and the units spread out in the open beach. Edmund's team followed him to the other part of the beach, where there were lots of tall fences. Edmund's team duty was to find survivors and bring them to the open beach.

Edmund had his gun ready but he wasn't going to shoot anyone. This idea was in his head when he was searching for survivors. His teammates got some young American kids out.

There was a sound of shooting -

"Duck!" Edmund shouted. His burly teammate ducked and there was a German soldier standing there with hands holding a short gun. He was yelling in German. He was desperate and it was as though Edmund could understand his words – that he hated this war and he didn't want to take part in any of these. From the German's eyes, Edmund knew the soldier had seen terrible things, that they were living in his head.

"Kill him," Someone standing next to him said.

"No," Edmund replied, he stood up and said in English, "I don't know your pain, Put down the gun, we'll work this out."

The German gave out a loud yell and picked up a loaded gun on the floor, he shot and shot and shot non stop until Edmund raised his gun and aimed the German's shoulder. He shot and the men fell down. Edmund fell someone sinking to the ground behind him. He turned around. His seven remaining teammates all lying flat on the ground. There was blood coming out. A lot of blood. Everywhere add anywhere.

Edmund's heart stopped.

"HELP!" was the only word he could make out. There were people coming towards him from all directions. Edmund truly realised that they would be no peace. How was he ever going to sleep again at night after seeing people who slept next to him for the previous eight months dead? That moment, as his Captain took him away from the beach, Edmund believed he had killed all seven of his teammates. Everyone understood that it was an accident, though Edmund constantly thought about the way it could be if he took down that German. Even though he did not kill, his soul was torn.

Edmund wished he could put down the past the way Aslan had helped him. It wasn't possible here though, there was no place to put the war but his head. Edmund remembered tripping over the bodies on the beach. Edmund packed the things in the tent and decided to send them back to the soldier's families. The most of the war in Europe ended with the success of the D-day.

Edmund brought his teammate's stuff back to their home one by one. He went to George Town in Cayman Islands, went to Ashbourne in Derbyshire, Saltash in Cornwall, Tonbridge in Kent, Wallingford and Wantage in Oxfordshire and Fleet in Hampshire. Edmund brought the clothes and photos back. He went through their wallets and looked through their family photos. Something sank inside him. Their families thanked him for bringing back the stuff, but Edmund'd rather them curse him.

Sitting on the train on his way back to London, he wished he could cry. He didn't. His eyes were dry and blood shot and the train slowly stopped. Edmund heard that the underground was still a shelter for the homeless until more public houses were built. Edmund thought he'd find Lucy there. He bought cheese and bread and went to the underground, where Lucy was sitting with a boy who he knew was Ivan and, looking like they were in deep conversation.

"My sister sewed your shirt," Edmund said in a dry voice.

Lucy looked up. She stared at Edmund for a moment. Edmund was about to turn around when Lucy leapt up and hugged him. Lucy wrapped her arms around him and Edmund saw her shoulders jerking. The little wise git was crying. Edmund suddenly realised that the weather now was quite warm, and he missed people and buildings instead of trees and mud ground.

"You came back!" His red haired sister screamed with tears coming down her cheeks. "You came home! Wait tell mum hear this! And Ed, this is Ivan! He helped me to help the homeless!"

Edmund shook hand with Ivan, who nodded sternly.

"Lu want to go somewhere?" Edmund said, "I've got food."

Edmund and Lucy sat on the edge of the platform away from people. Edmund unwrapped the cheese and bread and they ate in silence. Lucy dropped her head on Edmund's shoulder.

"I've missed you so much," Lucy said, "Peter and Susan don't argue now. Mum is always screaming whenever we mentioned you. Why didn't you write?"

"The transport is broken," Edmund said.

"You seem so quiet," Lucy said, "what's wrong?"

Edmund shrugged.

"Now you're keep secrets from me?" Lucy said in a demanding voice.

"It'll be the best," Edmund said, "terrible things happen in wars. Wars are ugly, however angle you look at it."

"Did you find your peace?"

"Yes," Edmund lied, and he asked about Ivan.

"And now, Peter works in the public houses, helping to build things," Lucy informed him.

"Architecture isn't his strongest strength," Edmund said, chewing the bread. Sitting in the platform and being able to talk to his sister like normal was somewhat unfamiliar to Edmund. He was not used to being relax.

"Well, he just has to carry around wooden planks or those physical work," Lucy said, "Susan works in a school now, a school nurse. She wants to go back to America soon. She wants to work in Hollywood, how cool that sounds."

Edmund nodded, "I think working in underground is sort of really brilliant."

Lucy beamed, "come on. Let's go home."

Edmund got up and on their way home in the golden sunset, Edmund asked, "Do you think we'll ever go back to Narnia? Well, Aslan didn't exactly say we won't."

"We'll always go back," Lucy said, "One day. Or someday, in a crazy way – that's what I always believe."

Edmund nodded.

"When He thinks it's time, He'd have His way bringing us home," Lucy said, "it could be anything. Come on, He broke down a train platforms and made us walk through a wardrobe, anything can happen. He always has His way. His style."

"It's like we're just part of His story," Edmund said.

"I believe it's a very big part," Lucy said.

Standing in front of the door, Edmund, in his trench coat, looked at Lucy uneasily.

"Maybe I can come home tomorrow -"

"You'll be alright," Lucy said, rubbing his shoulder. Lucy opened the door and inside, the fireplace was lit. Susan and mum were in the kitchen, both seemed to be in a bad mood. Peter was sitting in front of the chess set, seemed to be playing against himself.

"Edmund's home!" Lucy shouted, took Edmund's bag and went inside. Edmund looked around and his brother jumped up, knocking down the chess set and embraced Edmund before he could say anything. Peter kept patting Edmund's back and Edmund heard mum screaming and Susan shrieking. He heard them saying something about missing him and that him leaving this way was "irresponsible".

Edmund sat around the table when dinner was prepared. Edmund had taken a bath before coming down. He dared not to look at the mirror. During dinner, mum kept asking him about the war and the unit and the battlefield. Susan was curious too.

"I think that's enough questions for him," Peter said, "Let's talk about something else other than the war. The war belongs to the past and it's over."

"But Peter, your brother just came back -"

"I don't think he wants to talk about that," Peter said. Edmund smiled gratefully as Peter went on, "Susan, tell us about the Hollywood thing?"

"Well they've got a role there," Susan said, "it's film about a legendary singer. I am auditioning for the main role, and if I get it, I can be the spokemodel of a lipstick brand that I really like. It's exciting!"

"Only that I am not sure if you should go on the Hollywood path," mum said, "It's glamorous but highly dangerous. The stars are ruined."

"Well I'm very good at taking care of myself," Susan said. "I can protect myself."

"Yes you can protect yourself when you have an arrow and bow in a battlefield field with Caspian's saving," Peter said, "but out there? It's different."

"I'm not a kid anymore," Susan said. "I'm not always a kid."

"The Hollywood industry is treacherous," Peter replied.

"Then what? Like you working like an unnoticed constructor for the government's houses? How much you're getting paid -"

"You seem to forget that we've been rich for about 15 years back home," Peter said, "and that isn't enough for all that desire for fame and wealth? You were a qu-"

"Do I have them now?" Susan asked, "you're stubborn and old fashion and impossible. At least I am not-"

"No Susan -" Lucy whispered.

"- the one who insisted attacking Miraz's castle when we could have turned back. At least I didn't hold deaths in my account!"

Susan grabbed her bowl and went upstairs. Peter muttered something about going out for a walk.

"And you say they don't argue?" Edmund whispered to Lucy.

"It's called an discussion. It's their way of speaking– bringing back other's shameful past." Lucy said. "I'll talk to Susan. You get Peter."

Mum was covering her face with her hands, returning to her bedroom. Edmund decided to finish dinner on his own instead of going to find Peter. Edmund appreciated the state of solitary. Edmund found the table being strangely big without the presence of other people. And he ate silently, cleaned the kitchen silently and saw Peter coming home.

Peter picked up the blue towel to helped to dry the plates.

"You've been so quiet during dinner," Peter said, "thought you'd say something about Susan's decision."

"Like it's going to make any difference," Edmund said, "the last thing I need is her bringing up things from me."

"The war was terrible, wasn't it?" Peter said.

"You knew better," Edmund said. Peter smiled bitterly.

"I know you think I should've joined it," Peter said, "you think I can fight and all that. But wars cause causality, and I have it sorted that, I have seen enough deaths."

"I am glad you didn't," Edmund said. "When...Peter when we went back to Aslan's How from the castle, what were you thinking? I flew over the castle and there wasn't one living Narnians. They were counting on you for their lives and they died – no offense."

"It's quite a weary feeling to be honest. Everything I did was, well, emotionally driven. I had to take priorities. I had people looking up to me," Peter said, "but arrogance aside, I had to learn from the attack and learn when to stop grieving. There were still wars to fight that time, more important decisions to make. And I was sorry being a jerk to Caspian. And there were many complications and the Witch tried to tempt us again - I didn't have time to be sad."

"What about afterward? All these feelings don't vanish with a snap of finger."

"They don't. They'll come and you'll have to greet them like an old friend. But it's either you rule your mistakes or your mistakes rule you," Peter said patiently, "and you'll learn. Everyone learns differently. It takes time. I know it's difficult because you didn't lose soldiers to the wars, you lost friends. Don't let the grim eat you up. Mourn when it's time to mourn. Embrace the pain because if you don't, it won't go away. Gather courage again when it's time to continue."

Peter patted his back before going back into his room. Edmund didn't hear Peter snore that night.

The next few days, they moved into a bigger house somewhere near where Peter worked. It was a quiet place with a front yard. Susan was in a constant bad mood. Peter and Lucy always kept Edmund accompanied though they rarely spoke of the war.

One particular night, however, Edmund was sitting on the window sill. The siblings had their own bedroom now. Edmund had just avoided his mother from talking about the D-day. Edmund wondered about the family of the deceased soldiers.

Edmund was thinking about Narnia, and when he looked at the sky, he found a star that shone at its brightest. And for a moment, the star seemed to be calling him home. Edmund fell asleep on the window sill then, and he had a wonderful dream of having tea with centaurs and mermaids.

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	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Edmund was mowing the lawn in the front yard. He wondered what his Narnians would think if they saw him now, in a summer shirt and face filled with sweat. Edmund glanced at the window and noticed his mother was watching him on the second floor though she was hiding it by pretending to read a book. The book was upside down.

The sun was nowhere to be seen in mid summer. The elderly house used to have summer tea parties during this time. Edmund drove the thoughts away by thinking about supper tonight.

He could hear Peter's voice in the house, talking to Lucy about their travels during the Golden Age. He heard Lucy laughing. Susan must be burying herself behind piles of Hollywood magazine. The siblings had offered help to clear the lawn, Edmund gently refused though. They were trying to get him "out of your world of guilt". It didn't, and wouldn't, work.

Yesterday Edmund received letters from his former units' family members, asking how he was doing. Edmund did not plan to return the letters. Edmund now worked in the post office, delivering letters and mails in London. Edmund sat on the lawn and looked around.

The street was quiet and the air was stuffy. There wasn't anyone in the street. People were probably indoor listening to radios. The world was healing from bomb attacks and killings. The returned soldiers were unemployed, or they were too scared to go out. Families were scattered.

The war ruined everyone and anyone who said otherwise were lying to try and make themselves hope again. Edmund however didn't bother to try. He didn't want false hope. Too much disappointment would push him to the breaking point, and Edmund didn't want to know what he'd reach it.

Edmund was listening to the silence when a hooded woman appeared in the end of the street, coming out from the massive trees. He stared. He frowned and stood.

The woman was about his height, Edmund saw her brunette hair falling over the front of her purple cape. He couldn't see her face. She was wearing a green cloak. No one would dress like her except they were on some ridiculous drama show. Edmund studied the pattern on the woman's clothes carefully. He recognise the pattern.

"Oi!" Edmund shouted. He hoped the woman would walk away and showed him that she was an actor of some freak show.

The women was caring two swords, the swords hilts were visible from her belt. A woman carrying two swords was not indeed normal in Narnia, even more peculiar in modern England.

"Oi!" Edmund shouted again.

The woman looked up, looking around as walking. Finally her gaze fell on him. It was rude to stare, but Edmund stared anyway.

The woman in cloak gasped, hurrying forward. She walked like she was crawling.

"The Just King? Are you the Just? Please be," she was panting, her nails painfully sinking into Edmund's arm.

"What's happened?" Edmund said, "Is something wrong?" The woman looked pale and desperate.

"I need your help," the woman said. Sweat was coming down from her hairline.

"Why are you here, Telmarine? Speak." Edmund asked

The woman drew her hood backward. Her face was white. She shook her head slightly and Edmund noticed her clutching at her stomach.

"Help, your majesty -"

She collapsed and Edmund grabbed her before she fell to the ground.

"Peter!" Edmund yelled, "Lucy get the bandages and towels!"

Edmund carried the woman to the front door, where Peter stood. Under his messy blonde hair, his brilliant blue eyes widened at the sight of the woman in Edmund's arms.

"Get her in," Peter said. Peter headed out and looked around the streets. He went back into the house and locked the door. He then drew all the curtains in the house, locked the backdoor as well. He carefully peeked out of the window through the curtain gap.

"Was there any sign of others? Anyone follows her?" Peter asked.

"Just her in the street," Edmund said, "Lucy! Bandages!"

Lucy gasped and Susan threw the magazine away.

"Get her into a room," Lucy said, "Now! And keep her wound untouched!"

Susan ran upstair to clear a bed.

"Ed!" Lucy shouted from the living room, "identify the weapon!"

"What is happening?" came mother's panicking voice. "Who is she?"

Edmund didn't explain and raced upstairs, put her on Susan's bed. Susan put a few more pillows beneath the woman's head. The woman was moaning and shutting her eyes. And there he smelled this nauseous rusty smell of blood, one that he was so familiar from battlefields.

Peter came upstairs, drawing the yellowish curtains in the room and still peeking the street.

"What weapon, Ed?" They heard Lucy shouting from downstairs, "Susan get here and help me to boil the water!" Susan ran downstairs after muttering something about "can't believe we're doing this."

"I don't know," Edmund said, "I don't...okay, Peter get me a knife or scissors."

Peter returned with a knife. The blood was dark red, it stained on Edmund's hands too. There was a lot of blood. Stop thinking, Edmund urged himself.

"Ed you're shaking," Peter said.

"I'm not," Edmund said, he couldn't cut the dress because he knew he'd cut the girl too. Edmund breathed heavily and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You're still shaking. I'll take it from here. You'll assist me, I'm not expert with weapons."

Peter took the knife and carefully cut the fabric over the woman's stomach. Edmund covered his nose and looked at the wound.

"What weapon?" Lucy screamed from the living room.

"Something sharp and, yeah sharp," Peter shouted back. "It's a sword?"

"No, sword wounds are deeper. The attacker didn't aim to kill. " Edmund said, not looking at the blood, "Lucy! A dagger. The blade is about six inches. Silver blade. Upper stomach. Lucy will handle the rest. I need to get some air."

Edmund left the room and went to his. He knew mother was following so he quickly locked his door. Edmund's breathing was rapid. Edmund sat on the floor near his bed, clutching his dark hair. With his head between his knees, Edmund started to breathe slowly. Don't think about the blood on the sand, Edmund urged himself.

"The war is over," Edmund muttered, "we won. We did it."

And a moment later, Edmund opened his window, looking at the ever empty street. Don't think about the beach, Edmund urged himself. He saw a sparrow flying in mid air, circling the house. The sparrow was in black and its eyes were...red.

Edmund flung open the door.

"Peter, we're being watched!" Edmund said. Peter ran down to the living room.

"There aren't anyone else in the street -"

"No, you remember the spies?"

"Spies? What spies? People from the government?" Mum shrieked.

"The bird," Peter muttered, "are you sure? It could a guide for the girl -"

"Back in the cell, birds with the Witch had red eyes," Edmund replied, "I remember them, circling the ceiling of Jadis's ice castle. I'm sure."

"Susan, your arrows and bow are still there?" Peter asked looking through the curtain. Susan had bought a bow and some arrows from a store to remind "myself the statue of being a queen once", though she never liked them because "they are signs of barbaric people, not Hollywood stars."

"I don't shoot," Susan said, carrying the objects down. "I am not shooting anything here."

"Come on!" Peter opened the window enough to put an arrow through. "I can't aim well. Shoot it down from the sky."

"No," Susan said, thrusting the things into Peter's arms, "I've quitted all these."

"What? You can't quit! Once a royalty, always a royalty," Peter said, "You were crowned the -"

"It's just a bird! And kids, WE ARE BRINGING THE GIRL TO A HOSPITAL!" Mother shouted.

"No, I am not doing it," Susan crossed her arms, "ask Ed, Ed can shoot. He has beat me before."

"Ed is having war problems," Peter shouted emotionally, "He can't do this."

Edmund didn't argue.

"You're all being kids when you're not supposed to," Lucy said as coming down stairs. Mother screamed again as seeing Lucy's clothes and hands stained with blood. She took the arrow from Peter's hands.

"Injure it?" Lucy asked, mounting the arrow.

"What are you doing Lucy!" Mother whispered.

"Injure it," Peter said. Lucy shot, the arrow flew through the window gap and stabbed through the sparrow's wing. The sparrow fell from the sky and Peter went out to get it while Lucy held the bow and intensely looked around in case there were any more sparrows. And the sky looked quite empty then.

Peter came back with empty hands, "it's gone," he said.

"How about the girl?" Susan asked.

"I put her to sleep," Lucy said, "don't worry, I'm quick with sharp wounds. It didn't kill her -"

"It wasn't intended to kill her," Edmund said, "there's no dagger around."

"A dagger from Narnia?" Susan gasped.

"Yep, some British civilian do own a dagger from Narnia" Edmund said, "look at her clothes!"

They returned to Susan's room. The girl was breathing steadily with eyes closed. Edmund unbuckled the girl's belt and took out the two swords. He drew one of them. And something white was hanging there too.

"What are you doing? Put those sharp things away!" Mum said.

"Mum it's alright," Peter said, "we know her. We sort of do."

"It's a nice swor- it's my sword!" Edmund said, examining the blade "and, this is your horn."

The horn was hanging on the belt. Susan took the white horn in her hands, staring at them as though her worst nightmare came back.

"How did she get it?" Lucy asked.

"There're so many more questions we need to ask," Edmund said.

"How long does she need to get up?" Peter asked.

"Well under good care – my care – tomorrow hopefully, but that doesn't mean she can get out of her bed," Lucy said, "I thought Caspian was keeping the horn."

"What's going on here? We need to get her to the hospital!" Mother bellowed in the small room.

"Mum, Lucy can fix her," Peter said, "Don't worry.

"We need more bandage," Susan said. She left the house to buy more bandage and didn't return until three hours later. Instead of the normal perfume, Susan's room was filled with rusty, salty smell of blood.

"She asked for help," Edmund said, "something is wrong back home."

"You're not speaking that magical language again," mum said thrillingly, "Edmund put the toys away."

"These are not toys," Peter said, "they are tools."

Lucy beamed, Peter and Edmund went to the living room when Lucy changed the woman's clothes. Lucy came down then, said "We've got a story to tell you. About Narnia and a wardrobe and a lion."

Mum sat on the couch, waiting for them to continue. Edmund went into the room to look at his and the girl's swords because he didn't want to hear the story of his betrayal. He only went down stairs when Peter started talking about their second journey in Narnia.

When the explaining and story telling was done, Edmund volunteered to set the table. He glanced at his mother's expression, she was unreadable. Well, he didn't expect anyone to actually believe that. He hadn't until he had seen, and when Edmund saw the land, he made terrible mistakes. When dinner was finished, what needed to be told was told. No one said anything. The silence was awkward and Edmund wished that no one would break it.

"So?" Lucy said.

"What?" Mum asked, "Still hungry?"

"No," Susan said, "you think we are joking?"

"Well," mother paused, "I don't think you are. I remember the day when I picked you up from Professor Kirke. All of you looked different. Peter looked like his father as his twenties. Susan was gentle and elegant -"

"I still am," Susan said.

"Edmund changed the most because you weren't bullying Lucy," Mum said. "And ever since you came back from school the other time, all of you looked even older. It shocked me, I thought you saw some robbery or schools weren't well. But then you don't argue the way you did. It's illogically logical."

"We're not lying," Peter said firmly, "I say this in the name of the Lone Islands."

"If you're joking," mum said eventually, "how to explain the girl upstairs? I'd love to go to the country though, to meet your friend Reep."

"He's the finest knight of Narnia," Lucy said excitedly.

"Okay," mum said slowly, "what about the girl up there? Her name is Jadis?"

"No!" Edmund almost shouted, he looked down, composed himself, "She isn't Jadis. I'd know when I see her."

"What happened when she had you?" Mother asked Edmund.

Edmund shrugged, "it doesn't matter now."

"Listen I will take care of the girl," Lucy switched the topic, "I am a Healer."

"One of the best ones," Peter added.

The night was still chilly by the end of August. The house was quiet at eleven o'clock. Edmund insisted Susan sleeping in his room on his bed while he slept on the couch in the living room. No one could talk him out of it. As lying in the dark, hugging a pillow, Edmund pulled up his blanket and gazed at the ceiling. Every now and then he remembered Peter's word of praise when explaining to mother.

"Ed was brave though," Peter had said, "he fought so well and destroyed the White Witch's magical staff, she wounded him..."

And there came Susan's voice, "he could fight with two swords and is Narnia's best swordsman. He knew archery and he designed part of Cair Paravel. When we went sailing, he designed the ship and all the safety measures. He could built a catapult on his own. Ed knew how to use the Telmarine crossbow without anyone teaching him."

Edmund wished he could say that all of those were just lucks and more helps from the Narnians. Edmund wished they'd remember the part when he was a jerk and a traitor. Nobody seemed to mind that anymore. Edmund was lurked back into his memories.

"He was crowned King Edmund the Just, Duke of Lantern Waste and Count of the Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table by Aslan..." Lucy had said.

Edmund couldn't help thinking if Aslan had made a mistake. He could fight in Narnia, but he didn't bring his soldiers home from Normandy.

"Let the past be the past," Edmund remembered Aslan had said.

Edmund got up from the bed and opened Susan room's door. He went in and found a shadow against the wall near the bed.

"Hey," Edmund heard Peter's low voice.

"Pete?" Edmund called, "I am, er, just here to check my sword."

"Right," Peter said, still sitting on the chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "If she's awake, she must find it creepy that two men are in her room watching her sleep."

"That's why you're here? Watching her sleep?" Edmund said, sitting down on the floor near the drawer, looking at his sword.

"I am not a stalker," Peter said, "though you have to admit it's good to see someone from home. It's been too long. I can't go back obviously, but if I am needed, then I'll 's the place that made me what I am now. I can't let – I can't imagine if anything bad is happening. What if it's already been two thousand years there? Caspian. Reep."

"We'll know when she wakes up," Edmund said, "and there are tons of questions that I need to ask her. Something isn't right. She has my sword and Susan's horn. She's here. How? Our world? What about the wound? And the bird? Telmarines don't use Narnian spies. We don't even know if she's an enemy."

"She's just a girl, and when I look at her, all I can see is, frankly, home." Peter said, "I know you have questions, and when you're to ask them, do it gently. She's our people after all. And in this house, she's a guest."

The girl was breathing slowly in the room like a soft lullaby. Edmund rarely saw Peter looking so concentrated, it was as though he was trying to remember every feature on her face. Or maybe he was just thinking about the unknown tragedy happening in a land that they couldn't yet reach.

Edmund polished his sword with his sleeve, trying to look relaxed.

"When you said," Edmund cleared his throat, "that, I had a war problem, I..."

"I hope you weren't offended," Peter said, "I was being, um, rather emotional."

"I wasn't," Edmund replied, "but what is that?"

"I actually think Susan knows better," Peter said, "it's a post – traumatic stress disorder – you are not sick, but something traumatic happened somewhere -"

"In the beach of Normandy. In the whole course of the war."

"Yeah that, and now you're stressed with the idea of home," Peter said. "You need to have a reason when you fight – for justice, for freedom, for being angry."

"I can't do that anymore. It's over. There's nothing," Edmund stood up.

"You need to learn to..." Peter said, "I am...yeah I am quite worried. About you. I don't want to lose a brother. I don't want to see you crush."

"How did you manage to not crush?" Edmund asked, hanging the sword on the wall, "we've been through so many wars. We won, but it feels like we didn't. Why is it so different from Narnia? When we fought the giants, I never felt this. Not even when we fought the Telmarines."

"I did feel what you're feeling now. You were too young that time to think of life and killings and duties -"

"We grew up once," Edmund said.

"It was a happy grew up," Peter said, "there were just evil and good. We grew up physically and with every Narnians being so kind to us during those 15 years, here" Peter pointed at his temple in the dark, "we don't have to do a lot of grow up. And I guess that's why we were called home for the second time. And life in this world is not easy and fair and when we do grow up, we're not treated like kings. That's makes here," Peter pointed his chest, "grow up. You'll know soon. I did feel what you are feeling now. I felt that pain after the first attack in Miraz's castle and I did feel that again, deeper, after the War of Bernua."

"And you think I'll be okay again," Edmund said.

"Yes, and I still do even if you don't," Peter said, "besides, I always have someone to talk to. Caspian. Glenstone. Reep. Badger. Back then there was Mr Tumnus. And the Beavers. They'd get you out of that hole that consumes you," Peter said. "And learn to let things go because nothing makes any different in the past with all the mourning. You live a period call now."

"I'll be fine," Edmund said uneasily.

"Talk to Lucy when you need someone, or me," Peter said. "Goodnight Ed."

Edmund returned to his couch in the living room and closed his eyes. He fell asleep.

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The next day after the mysterious girl's arrival was busy. Susan ("Eww") and mother had to change the girl's clothes frequently because her blood kept coming out of her wound, staining the bandages and the clothes. Lucy was changing the girl's bandage once every two hours. Peter went out to search for the spy sparrow. Edmund tried to keep himself occupied by polishing his sword, which was shinning at this point.

Edmund, then, buried himself with a collection of books about the science of photosynthesis, something that he had absolute no interest in. He made lunch when Peter came back from the search.

"There's nothing, no sight of any birds in the sky," Peter said.

"The sparrow probably ate all other birds," Edmund said, "you'll never know."

"Let's be optimistic, maybe the sparrow went back to Narnia," Susan said mindlessly.

"How? There needs to be portals that displace projectiles. It's like a teleportation," Edmund said, "which is a transportation of matter or energy from one point – well one world, our world, to another – which is Narnia, without traversing the physical space between them."

"Speak English," Susan said.

"A door. A object. Something that connects our world with Narnia," Edmund said, "could be a gap between the worlds."

"We'll never find something like that," Lucy said.

"No we won't," Peter replied, "they find us. Remember us going into the wardrobe? Remember the train platform? We don't have to find it."

"Which makes that girl something unnatural – potentially dangerous" Edmund said sharply, "something's wrong with her, I can tell."

Lucy shook her head and went upstairs to see the girl.

"Do the logic. How you can think there's something wrong with a stranger who hasn't spoken to you?" Susan said.

"For one, how did she find us? There are so many houses in the street, and we didn't exactly have a neon sign saying We Are the Narnia Royalties" Edmund said.

"You were sitting in the lawn, and they had us painted," Susan said. "She recognised you."

"And she came out from the end of the street? Narnia's magic summons us back, never the other way around," Edmund said.

"Talk like you know a lot about the ancient magic," Susan snapped.

"At least when we were kings and queens, I spent a decent amount of time in the library or with the wise centaurs instead of attending every party," Edmund muttered.

"We were royalties, it was our duty -"

"That's enough," Peter said wearily. "You think there's a portal somewhere here?"

"Either that or someone sent her here on purpose," Edmund said, "But then that's another kind of magic."

"Could it be Aslan?" Susan said.

"No," Peter said firmly, "Aslan would care enough to heal her first."

"And she had our stuff," Edmund said, "I left my sword with Caspian the night before we came back. Caspian said he'd put it in his chamber next to Peter your sword. And your horn," Edmund said to Susan, "where did he put it?"

"He did mention that he'd put it in his bedroom," Susan said slowly.

"See? This means there could just be another attack. How could that woman get all these treasures? Caspian would not give them to her unless he is bewitched -"

"I am sure he's not," Susan said in a scared voice.

"You won't know," Edmund replied coldly. "He was young for a king when we left."

"Well older than we were," Susan replied.

Edmund returned to his reading again, though more questions and doubts about that girl came into his head. It was the natural instinct of being the Just, and with all these thinking and the idea of Narnia, Edmund almost felt like himself again. Though this sense of homeliness didn't last for long.

"Ed!"

Edmund looked up from the book. Lucy was standing on the stairs and gesturing Susan's room. He put the book away and followed her. Peter was standing in the corridor when Lucy went inside. He grabbed Edmund's arm and said, "I know you don't like her-"

"I've never said that," Edmund said.

"You've showed it well enough," Peter said hastily, "courtesy is not your virtue, and with all the doubts and questions that you have in mind, I am only asking for your basic manner as a gentleman and your patience."

"Why do you care so much about that now?" Edmund asked.

"Because she is badly wounded," Peter said, "and it's innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around."

"There are things that she needs to answer," Edmund said.

"That yes, and you will proceed the questions in a kingly and gentle manner," Peter said, "now, brother, can I have your word? Whatever she says or however she acts, whatever items that trigger you of the war, you will be calm."

"I'll see what I can do," Edmund said.

Edmund went inside Susan's room. The woman sat on the bed, looking at them weakly. Susan was sitting on the bed edge and Lucy was sitting on the chair. Peter was standing aside with a stern face. The woman looked at the four of them with wide eyes. She looked surprised and uncomfortable in Susan's clothes.

"Your majesty," she mumbled, "my swords and horn might I ask?"

"My sword and Susan's horn," Edmund corrected her.

"They are kept safely in another other room," Peter said, "What's your name and who are you?"

"Natasha, my name," she replied slowly, looking at her bed, "I am here to bring you back."

"What happened in Narnia?" Peter asked eagerly.

"Terrible things happened there," Natasha said, staring at the bed end, "things are going bad."

"What happened?" Edmund repeated.

"The Witch rose again," Natasha said with great difficult, "King Caspian is no match against her and Aslan is nowhere to be seen. She rules nearly the whole Narnia now. Some Telmarines switched sides, quite a lot of them actually."

"Who sent you?" Edmund asked.

"No one sent me," Natasha said, "I came here by this horn. It is said to be magical."

"He gave it to you? Is Caspian alright?" Susan asked.

"He's well enough," Natasha said, "I am not sure. I've been away from people, trying to find my way here. Please go back to Narnia with me."

"How did you get the horn?" Edmund asked in a rough voice, "and my sword."

"A friend gave them to me, asked me to set off to find you or somebody is going to pay the price," Natasha said. She looked at Edmund.

"Who is going to pay the price? What price?" Edmund asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Susan said, "of course it's the Narnians or worse, Caspian."

"What friend?" Edmund asked.

"Edmund please," Lucy said gently.

"We need to know. What if she's a decoy?"

"Hey!" Peter said, turning to face Natasha, "My apologies. Edmund would you come out for a moment?"

Edmund nodded and they closed the door, standing in the empty corridor.

"Your manner?" Peter said.

"I was listing out the possibilities and measuring our risk," Edmund said, "we won't know."

For a moment, Edmund stared at Peter's red face and thought he was about to shout. But he didn't. "Look Ed," Peter said, patting his shoulder, "I don't know whether you notice or not, something has changed after you got home. You are always doubting everything around you, and whether notice or not, you're always doubling checking everything. The oven. Your shoe knots."

"For safety, yes," Edmund said casually, "Don't fancy seeing the oven explode or me tripping on the floor over anything."

"I know these things do happen after you went to war, I've seen men acting the same way as you are in the hospital. But Ed, that girl is from Narnia. No – you listen, of course not everything is cherry in Narnia, but she came all the way here to find us for rescue. She's even hurt by whoever tried to stop her -"

"What if she hurt herself on purpose?"

"Why would she do that? And that wound should mean a lot to us because she is risking her life for Narnia. How bad can that person be?"

Edmund nodded, "I will keep my suspicions but I won't mention them in her face."

"That will be very much appreciated," Peter said. "You're going to go back to Narnia and help while I cannot. Aslan said -"

"Aslan knows that you care enough to go back," Edmund said, "if you really can't go back, He won't let you know any of these."

Edmund opened the door again, he said, "If you don't mind me asking, Natasha, how exactly did the horn get you here? Because the horn only brings help back to Narnia, not transporting people here? I am just curious. And your answer will be, er, very much appreciated."

"I don't know," Natasha said, "I blew it, I thought of you and I've seen you before. I was ten years old. In the square."

"You wore a blue dress, didn't you?" Lucy said, "and you gave me flowers when I was on the horse!"

Natasha nodded fiercely.

"What happened to the time law?" Edmund asked.

"She broke it and publicly announced it. Not all the Narnians understood it, but I did. One day here equals to one day in Narnia." Natasha said, she must have seen Edmund open his mouth "and my dear king, I know that because after you left, Trumpkin and King Caspian made a record of everything that you old kings and queens have said. Your stories are the best evidence of the time law, especially your young re-apparance after 1300 years. Now with my own eyes, my theory is right. It's been five years in Narnia and -"

"And three years here," Peter said, "fair enough. How about Caspian?"

"He ruled fair and fine at the beginning despite the fact that some lords were still plotting things and discontent towards him. King Caspian is a great man. He sent out spies to make sure that the lords did not disturb the Narnians. And someone got lost in the woods and was tempted. The Witch received one drop of human blood and that was all she needed. There's nothing we can do to fight. It's cold there, everywhere. Creatures, humans, trees – all choosing sides. People are dropping like flies. Trolls and giants and dark creatures are coming out from their caves. We can't fight for long. King Caspian is in the Lantern Waste now. Your forest," She said to Edmund.

"Where's Aslan?" Peter asked. Edmund stared at the dressing table, thinking about winter.

"Do I look like I know?" Natasha said, "terrible things happen there. People are turning sides and some are forced to because their family is kidnapped. Narnia is dying. And I am sorry. To bring you the bad news I mean."

"We'll get there," Lucy said, "Don't worry."

"Will we?" Susan said to Peter, who ignored her.

"How did you get hurt at the beginning?" Lucy asked.

"The Witch stabbed me," Natasha said, "I was in her castle, it was freezing and there were just ice everywhere! And there were statues of people and Narnians. Even frozen trees and petals! I – I," she was trembling and "there were black statues that I thought there funny looking artwork. I looked at them and I even laughed at some facial expression and I realised it – they – it's enough. Can we not talk about that?"

Edmund, who was stabbed too once by the same Witch looked up from the floor and studied Natasha for the first time. She had massive, chocolate colour curly hair. She looked frail, probably was because of the wound.

"How come you were in the castle? Why did she stab you?" Peter asked.

"She doesn't need a reason to do anything," Edmund said, "suppose stabbing people with swords and daggers is like her daily habit. Let's stop giving the girl a hard time remembering these and talk about something else."

For a moment, Natasha met Edmund's gaze. She didn't smile or anything. She looked startled and she looked away. Edmund realised her eyes were in blue.

"With the time law broken, we'll need to convince mum to let us go. She's still not back from the shopping yet. One day passes here and one day in Narnia. It can take us a year to get things right. Maybe even a decade," Peter explained.

"Peter's right," Susan, surprisingly, supported Peter, "a year time can mean a lot to some people. We don't even know if we're ever coming back."

"It's not like we have a choice," Lucy said, "we can't turn our back on them."

"I'm not saying we are," Peter said, "I want to go. I am not sure if I can, Lucy. Aslan said I've grown up."

"They need us. All of us," Lucy said emotionally, "Don't act like children now. Peter you were fearless. Susan drop the Hollywood thing. Those people need all of us there. Whatever it's going on there, it needs to stop now."

"If Aslan means you to not go there," Edmund said, "You can't go however you try. But since we don't know that yet, it's worth trying."

"I'm still not sure," Susan said slowly, "I'm going downstairs, to, sort of, check the mail."

Susan left the room. Lucy explained to Natasha that this was their world and she was wearing their clothes. Lucy assured her that everything would be alright.

"That's enough talking for today," Lucy said, shoving her brothers out, "we'll talk after she rests."

"How many days you reckon she needs?" Peter said. "We don't have time."

"Five days at least," Lucy said, closing the bedroom door. "Peter, you talk to Susan. Talk to sense into her."

Peter signed and walked downstairs, calling "Susan? Want to go to your favourite cafe in town?"

"That's a really nice approach," Lucy said, smiling at Peter's back with great admiration.

"That's the Peter with courtesy," Edmund shrugged.

"You were quite the opposite," Lucy said. They went down to the living room and got the kettle boiling. Peter and Susan left the house already.

"I was already restrained," Edmund replied. "I am not sure if I trust her."

"You're not sure if you trust anyone, and that's called a trust issue," Lucy said.

"I trust you."

"Because I'm your sister and I'm the one putting up with your everything," Lucy said with a smile, "if Peter and Susan can't go to Narnia, then you'll be in charge."

"No, Caspian will. I trust his judgement and see? I don't have a trust issue." Edmund said, "I'm not leading anything. I'll be a political figure. A ceremonial king, or a soldier to fight in battlefields. And you, my sister, will be a brilliant healer and everyone's special force of happiness."

Lucy chuckled.

"Though I would love to take down Jadis on my own," Edmund said, "I will crush her like I did last time."

"Last time it was a figure summoned by black sorcery," Lucy said, "it probably was just part of her."

"She's like a monster with many heads," Edmund said, "Cut one and she'll grow five more."

"Well, where do you think Aslan is? Things never happen the same way twice, I know," Lucy said, "but where?"

"Somewhere between a hopeless situation and a favorable condition?" Edmund said, holding a cup of water, "He always turns things around. Eventually."

"And He will show up, right?" Lucy said.

"You know the answer better than anyone living under this roof," Edmund replied. "I'm going to polish Natasha's sword. In case she needs it. Why don't you start thinking about how to persuade mother to let us go? She almost had a heart attack when we told her about attacking Miraz's castle and slaying the trolls."

"What a difficult task that you're giving me. And Edmund? Don't bully her," Lucy said.

Edmund chuckled before climbing upstairs. Natasha was sleeping. Edmund grabbed her sword from the wall and brought it to his room, started all the polishing work. Lucy managed to ask Natasha to call them by names. Mum, Peter and Susan came home. Night fell. Susan wasn't in a good mood though Peter was. Mother asked about the girl and Lucy told her everything.

"Mum," Lucy said, "I know that you're not going to let us go easily. But here's the truth, we're going anyway. You know me and I rarely stand for something unless I have to. This is my stand. Those are my people and I am not going to die in Narnia. But if we don't go to Narnia now, we will die here in regret."

"Why are you talking about dying here or dying there?" Mother whispered.

"Oh we're just doing the worse assumptions," Susan said, "that's what we do every time before a war or a battle. That actually helps us to think of the alternative quicker."

"Edmund has been in the army and all of us can fight," Lucy said.

"How about this Susan," Mother turned to Susan, "we can go to America. Let's go audition in Hollywood! That'll be exciting and your siblings will go there too! To support you?" Mother was smiling brightly.

"Hollywood is treacherous, you – or Peter said that," Susan said. "I'm going back, mum."

"Peter! I thought you went persuading her to not go just now!" Mother said.

"I'm sorry," Peter said, "I told her that Caspian would be greatly disappointed if she doesn't help him while he's in terrible danger. He saved her once."

"And there's a reason why I am crowned as Queen Susan of the Horn," Susan said.

"What reason? You had bow and arrow and you didn't even shoot! I've seen you." Mother said, "It's just a childhood dream -"

"No." Susan said and when she spoke, she spoke gracefully with a clear voice as though she was standing in the golden hall of Cair Paravel with a silvery crown, "I am a gifted archer. I don't kill at wars because I rarely go to wars. But I will not hesitate to shoot when my country, and my people are threatened. I am fierce at battles and I am capable to protect and defense. Aslan said 'to the Radiant Southern Sun, I give you Queen Susan the Gentle'. And mother, I tell you now. I am Queen Susan."

"Child! You're not going back. You're going to Hollywood, just as you've wanted," Mum said loudly. Peter just smiled, "what if people beat you up in that place – Narnia? You can't protect yourself and I am thinking if you don't go, your siblings would probably stay here too!"

"For one thing, she can call for help. Caspian will always be there to save her day," Lucy said.

"I don't need him to save me, and in return I shall save him and the country that we gave him," Susan said. "mother, you want proof that I can aim marvollously?"

"Don't be ridiculous, child -"

"Peter stand there and don't move," Susan pointed at the kitchen cupboard. Peter stood before it and Susan picked up the kitchen knife. Mother screamed ("Put it down! Put it down darling!"). Susan went to the corner of the house, standing as distanced from Peter as the room allowed. Mum kept screaming ("No, sweetheart, please! Don't!").

"Should I blindfold myself?" Susan said.

Lucy and Edmund laughed.

"Um, o...okay," Peter nodded, "How about cover one eye only? Just my insurance."

Mother didn't stop yelling ("nooooooooooo!"). Lucy and Edmund's laughter became hoarse. And Susan covered her eyes with one hand. The next thing Edmund saw was the knife flying in mid air. The knife was an inch above Peter's head, sinking deeply in to cupboard wood.

"You gave me a heart attack. You gave me a heart attack! You gave me a jolly heart attack!" Mum shrieked, cursing around the house. So this was how mother compromised with the fact that all of them were going back to Narnia.

When Susan was bathing, Lucy asked Peter what tricks he used on Susan.

"Remember there was this corner where school bullies like to hit the young boys?" Peter said.

"I have been one of those young boys," Edmund shrugged.

"I brought Susan to the ally corner. Something is still there in her," Peter said, "she is practical and bossy, but there's a queen inside. A queen who once rejected Prince Rabadash's proposal and defended Narnia. Lucy, when we got back to help Caspian, there was a bear. And she hesitated because she was afraid if it might be talking bear. She hates bullies."

"So?"

"So, that's the way that I'd like to remember her. Compassionate. Caring. Us spending time in two worlds makes her doubt the realities, both here and Narnia. She became more superficial, caring so much about her appearance and social life. But in the midst of all these fashions and material desires, our sister is still there. Buried deep inside, but there. She saw the school bullies and she saved a little boy. Then I brought her to the archery centre. She picked up her skill like the bow was part of her hand."

"And when she decides to do something or there's something she wants," Lucy said.

"She'll get them," Edmund said.

"Right," Peter said. Lucy hugged Peter and they beamed.

Edmund was still taking the couch in the living room at night. The moonlight was gleaming into the room. He couldn't sleep and made himself a mug of hot chocolate. Edmund heard something. He quietly climbed the stairs and opened the door of Peter's room. He left after he saw Peter sleeping soundly on his bed. He then knocked Natasha's door and opened it. As he guessed, Edmund found Natasha sitting very close to the bed edge.

"Your majesty," Natasha said.

"You were trying to open the window?" Edmund said, "I heard you."

"It's too far for me to reach," Natasha said. Edmund opened the window for her.

"We'd better not draw the curtains," Edmund said, "In case the sparrow is out there."

"The place that you live is a wondrous place. Wherever that spy bird is now, he must be missing home though," Natasha said.

"As you are," Edmund said. He turned on the lamp on the dressing table. He sat down on the chair. "Hot chocolate?"

Natasha shook her head.

"I thought you hated me," Natasha said.

"I am being cautious," Edmund said. "And despite all my questions and attitude, I have not found a reason to hate you."

"People say you were wise and careful in the old days," Natasha said, "and at this moment, tell me, are you being cautious with me?"

Edmund looked at her face for a moment, and he looked at the steams coming from his mug.

"Not tonight," Edmund said, "being cautious is tiring."

"Then why?"

"Peter is free natured. Lucy is naïve with a good heart. Susan is driven by her practical logic. No one feels the need to be cautious when it comes to matter of Narnia," Edmund said, "I have to."

"What an observer." Natasha said, "and earlier today you stopped the High King from questioning me because you've been where I was."

Edmund looked at her with a startled face, "you've really dug in your history."

"I like reading about you," Natasha said, leaning her back on the pillow, "you're complex."

"How does it feel to see a fictional character comes to life?" Edmund said and chuckled.

"It makes me very," Natasha said flatly, "emotional."

"You don't look like it," Edmund said.

"Because emotions are complex and I am not used to showing that," Natasha said.

"We have something in common then," Edmund said.

"A lot actually."

"Name some?"

"We've all made mistakes," Natasha said.

"You must think you've made great, terrible mistakes – whatever that is, and I hereby assure you that you have not," Edmund said, "well, at the very least not more terrible than mine."

"Don't say that," Natasha said, "You've done great deeds."

"So have you. You're here." Edmund said. "Tell me about your family."

"I don't have anyone left," Natasha said in the dark and the yellowish lamplight glowed on her face. "The war costed my everything."

"Really no one? That'll be a miserable life," Edmund said, "There was a time, a long time ago, that I wish I had no siblings. But trust me, that's way harder because you won't have anyone to find you when you're lost. We all need an anchor."

"I have a sister, she's very young," Natasha said, "but difficult time now. It's better to say you're alone. Don't want anyone to hold her against me."

"Where's she?"

"Somewhere in safety," Natasha said. They sat there in silence for a few minutes.

"You really hate her, don't you?" Natasha said.

"The Witch? The truth is I wish my hatred could incinerate her," Edmund said, "she made people do terrible things. She lurked people to believe that, to believe that..."

"That the future can be fruitful and full of joy," Natasha said, "She makes you crave for more and brings you false hopes. And then she tortures you and turns against you after exploiting you. Everything you have turns into dust."

Edmund looked at her. Her long hair was falling over her shoulders and she was looking at her toes.

"Yeah, she does that," Edmund said, still staring at her, "look, are you sure you don't want this mug of chocolate? It could be the best chocolate that you've ever tasted."

Natasha smiled, "no thank you."

"Have you ever been in wars? Or battles?" Edmund asked, "you sound like you have."

"There were local battles," Natasha said, "but those are haunting memories."

"Local battles but big scale?" Edmund said.

"Yes, with the catapults and huge iron arrows," Natasha said.

Edmund nodded, "You can't shake the war off your head?"

"It's always going to be there. Sometimes a fragment or a picture. Sometimes they come like a flood and determine to ruin you," Natasha said. "Suppose you know, you're a warrior."

Edmund shrugged. "Goodnight. Sleep well." He stood up.

"You're neither happy nor hopeful. Am I correct my lord?" Natasha said.

Edmund paused at the door and looked at her, "You're an observer too?"

"I guess so," Natasha said, "My lord, grim people see through grim people, and maybe that's why your siblings can't get through your cautiousness. They're too far away from being damaged."

"And you're unhappy and damaged too?" Edmund said.

"I am more like exhausted," Natasha replied.

"Then close your eyes and get some sleep. Dream of a peaceful country and dream of a place where the sea water is sweet and people are dancing and singing."

"Is that still possible after all the blood that was shed?"

"It's still worth a try," Edmund opened the door, "goodnight."

When Edmund walked down the stairs, he knew that Natasha wouldn't try because they both knew that Edmund was just trying to prove that he wasn't one of those grim people.


End file.
